


knots;

by lilevans (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, first wizarding war, jily, jily and harry, pregnant jily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 16:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11901489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lilevans
Summary: for the august jilychallenge on tumblr; the first wizarding war + “james thinks lily has moved on when he returns from a long order mission and she’s pregnant but omG he’s fATHERED a child”alternatively titled "this is what it feels like"





	knots;

**Author's Note:**

> lowkey shit lmao

**_ Knots; _ **

**_ Or “This is what it feels like” _ **

**_ The first wizarding war + “james thinks lily has moved on when he returns from a long order mission and she’s pregnant but omG he’s fATHERED a child”  _ **

**__ **

* * *

 

Her heart is catching in her throat, twisting like a thousand snakes, and her fingers are numb as she presses them into his. It’s got to be like this. They all have a part to play, but it’s not supposed to be like this. There’s always the risk of dying, but Lily knows that she can’t let _him_ die.

“Lily,” His eyes are round and hazel and still so _electric,_ but that little spark of mischief is fading piece by piece. All he wants is to help. And she’ll let him, she can let him go, but she can’t let that spark disappear.

“James,” She’s holding him like there’s a reluctance to let go, and there is, and neither of them want to just yet. He doesn’t want to leave her, withered and waiting, when he might not come back. He’s not even sure he wants to leave anymore. Ever since the war broke out, all they’ve wanted is to join the order and _help._ And now he’s wondering if dying is worth it when Lily is worth living for.

But he has to go.

“Lily, I have to.”

She nods, lips grazing across his knuckles.

“I won’t ask you to stay.”

“I won’t either.”

Her brows furrow and she’s confused, and a sigh escapes his lips as he replies.

“If—If I don’t come back, or if you get tired of waiting… you can go, leave, start anew. I won’t ask you to waste your time for me.”

She starts to say something, but doesn’t finish. She knows his intentions are just what are right.

They both know. The only way to truly tell each other how deeply they feel is to be okay with letting each other go.

But Lily only nods, forehead resting gently against his.

He looks at her with those brilliant eyes and she’s already missing him, already drowning, and their lips collide.

He’s balling her shirt into his hands until his knuckles turn to paper and she’s gripping his hair, melancholic and fierce and filled with the knowledge that maybe _this is it,_ this is war time, and he’s going out to help Dumbledore find the Death Eater headquarters.

This is it, and Lil and James are in love, pressing into each other with _everything_ that they have, anger and sadness and panic and raw electric love.

Her shirt is over her head and so is his, lips crashing messily and knots are everywhere, in his stomach, in her hair, in his belt, in her heart. Every layer of clothing is removed and the air is heady and full of sweat and angst. _I fucking love you_ is whispered into the abyss and eyes are closed and tears are shed because they need to know that they can exist perfectly together before they learn to exist apart.

 

 

* * *

 

“Lily--- Lil--” Marlene’s breath is hitching in between her sobs. _It’s ok, it’s ok._

“Lily, it’s going to be alright” Mary’s hand is there; it’s the three of them, like it’s always been the three of them. But for once, Mary wishes it wasn’t. He should be here. With her.

“What if he’s gone? I can’t do it alone Mar- fuck, I can’t, please make it stop—” Lily’s voice is hoarse and sharp and everything Lily isn’t, she’s made of pure panic and electric shocks.

“He’s not gone, I promise, he’s going to come home.”

“But he told me he might not, we told each other it was ok to move on, oh god Mare, I’ve lost him, and I can’t do it!”

“LILY EVANS!” Mary’s voice is sharp and everything Mary isn’t, but it cuts through Lily’s sobs and she stops for a moment.

“He loves you more than he loves anyone, more than he loves Sirius, even.” Lily blinks. Even Marlene finds that hard to believe.

Mary raises her eyebrows. “It’s true. He’ll come home, he’ll survive. He’ll come back and he’ll light up when he sees you. You’re his fuckin light.”

Marlene nods softly. “She’s right. This won’t change anything, he’ll stay, and of course he will. And he’ll _live,_ because – don’t tell him I said this – he’s actually good at spells and duelling.”

Lily laughs and hiccups, a mixture of salt and snot and exhaustion.

“Can we get off of the bathroom floor now?” Mary asks, trying mask her disgust.

They do, and Lily passes Marlene the empty firewhiskey bottle, and Marlene says it one last time for reassurance. “ _It’s going to be okay._ ”

 

 

* * *

 

There’s a feeling like he’s been pounded in the ribs by a ton of bricks, but he realises too late that it’s a jinx. The Death Eaters are darting all around him and he doesn’t know if he can see his comrades anymore. God, Sirius should be here, with him, with Pete, not… wherever he is.

James has to exhale sharply as a wall comes falling down where he was standing seconds before, and he reaches for the mirror in his sock as he fires a curse over the crumbling wall. He’s enjoying this, he knows it, adrenaline is what his body is made for, and for so long he thought he lived for the feeling of imminent death.

Until he knew what it was like to feel the imminent feeling of _living, of being with Lily Evans._

He thinks of all the reasons to stay alive, and _she_ (and Sirius) always come first.

He shoots another spell and knocks someone out cold with it, but all he can focus on is the shooting pains in his ribs, knots spreading through his insides. He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore, everything is falling, fading, _collapsing._

Its then that he sees _him, it. The mass._ He looks like nothing people have ever described, just looming and twisted, non-human and inexplicably evil.

And he’s heading straight towards Peter.

James scrambles from his safe spot in the corner of the falling building to save his friend, and stones are still falling from the ceiling but he can’t think of anything else, he can’t- he’s got to do something; he will _die_ before that black hole gets his brother.

James’ wand is raised and he knows that Voldemort can sense it, but he doesn’t turn around, he doesn’t make any acknowledgment. He’s looking at Peter’s hunched, cowering figure, and he seems to be _speaking_ to him, almost. Except he says nothing.

James can’t breathe, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat, and for a moment he’s frozen, he’s not sure what’s happening. He feels everything go numb and he thinks that Peter is going to die, he cannot stop it, and he’s next.

But then Voldemort is gone, a shot has been fired at him and he’s shot up into the air in a black mass.

Sirius Black stands behind James, before him and Peter, eyes steely and determined.

_He came for them._

James’s eyes are so bright he cannot contain them, but before they know it more Death Eaters surround them, and Pete is helped up roughly, like the brother he is, and the three of them are fighting and blasting from all sides. This is how it’s supposed to be. Brothers.

There’s a jet of light and Remus is there too, summoned by Sirius most likely, where the other three are, and the collection is complete.

The marauders will be unstoppable now. Remus grins his weary, snarky grin because he knows that as gruesome as this is, he is with his brothers. And they’re fighting for their lives, together.

There’s another white light in front of them and fuckin _Minnie,_ in all her prowess, enters the fray. The Death Eaters don’t stand a chance. She’s a machine of wonder and power as light comes from wand again and again, knocking out a Death Eater with each blow.

Jets of light are flown from left, right centre, vertical, horizontal, and every which way. The Death Eaters are more aggressive, but the Order has more heart. It has to count for something.

And for what it’s worth, this old building is no longer the meeting place of the Death Eaters.

Minnie shouts something at Remus and he _laughs,_ and James isn’t sure if this is hell or the ideal. All of them together, facing doom.

Voldemort’s figure can be seen hovering above the fray, the occasional curse flung from his wand, but soon he calls off his forces, and James’ heart pricks. What’s wrong? What’s he planning?

He whips around only to see Dumbledore behind him, quietly making his way through the battlefield, leaving small bursts of flame in his wake.

_How fucking cool._

The rest of the Death Eaters are gone and everyone sighs. Minnie looks like she wants to hug her boys, and for a moment, James thinks she might. But she doesn’t.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Dumbledore both greets them and dismisses them at once. “We’ve successfully found one of their meeting places, which mean we’ve flushed them out. I think you can all finally go home.” He turns around, humming, and holds an arm out for McGonagall. She tiredly rolls her eyes, but takes it and they both disapparate away.

“Well.” The harsh grey of Sirius’s eyes has faded, and they look alight again, but something within him is now well-worn. “Who wants a drink?”

The other two nod, looking defeated. But this is what they have to do.

“Not me, I should go home first.”

“To see Lily?” Pete asks, knowing the answer. Something within him looks changed, struck by whatever Voldemort did. He claps James on the back and his fingers tremble.

James shakes his head, but he knows Pete is right.

He has to know if she’s even still there.

They made no promises to each other before he left, so she had no reason to stay. And he knows she can do so much better than him. War does not limit her options.

But still, he goes.

And he’s not sure what to expect.

 

 

* * *

 

Its 3am when he lands neatly inside his front door, the small flat off Diagon dimly lit.

_She’s still there._

It’s dark and the only light is the flickering of the fireplace, which Lily is sprawled beside, covered in blankets to hide from the December chill. A cup of tea is beside her and she gently rests a book on her stomach. She looks different than before, a little more tired. But her hair has that brilliant haze surrounding it and smells as good as ever, eyes are alight as she skims the page with interest. Has anything really changed?

Her bright green eyes flicker up to meet his hazel ones, illuminated in the light. She doesn’t move or get up to greet him. She sighs, oh so softly, barely audible, but the relief is both masked and obvious.

“Oh. You’re home.” She says it so casually, like he was gone for a day and not 8 weeks. He’s taken aback. He swallows the adrenaline he felt this evening and it’s replaced with a new kind. The one he gets when _she’s_ in the room.

“You’re still in my house, then.” His hands are stuffed in his pockets and everything becomes still.

“Yeah and? It’s _our_ house, dumbass.”

Her reply is so quick, but the he barely recognises it, because she’s swiftly bounced off of the floor and propelled herself into him at such speed he might explode. And there they are, 3am and in his flat, crushing each other’s rib cages with _I’ve missed you’s._

“You stayed,” he mumbles into her hair, and she pushes herself upwards to smash her lips onto his clumsily. God, she’s missed these lips.

“You came back,” She quips back as they pause for air in between quick and messy kisses. It’s been too long, too long.

“I never asked you to stay,” he says as he peppers kisses along her jaw line, her nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt, grazing along his cuts and bruises, in love with him all over again.

The words should be cutting, but they’re breathless and filled with tears and the hidden meaning that is _but I’m so glad you did._

“But I did. I never asked you to come back either,” _I would never love anyone else while you are on this earth, James,_ her eyes speak volumes as she pours them into his.

“I love you,” short and simple, without air, without hope or promise, just James and Lily on the kitchen bench at 3am.

“I love you,” she repeats. Just James and Lily on the kitchen bench at 3am, messy and broken and war torn, oh so in love.

James’ hands roam her hips as they continue to kiss and she kisses his neck and jawline, breath heavy in his ear. He shivers.

She seems a little different, a little plumper, and even though Lily is known for subtle curves, they don’t feel so subtle anymore. James has memorised her body and it’s as easy as breathing.

Something has changed, but he immediately decides not to say anything. He’s only just come home. _(And her tits look great, if he’s honest)._

She sighs against his lips and they break apart for a moment, and her eyes are glossy as he pours himself into them, losing and finding himself all at once.

“I think I’m pregnant, by the way.”

The pin drops. She’s as nonchalant as ever, she’s still as in love, but she’s a little softer, edges rounder, and just as scared. More than ever before.

“Oh. Cool. Okay then.” He says it as casually as he can because there’s nothing else to say. Nothing else but panic.

But she’s making eye contact with him again, her eyes fill with small tears and they’re thinking the same thing.

“Fuck.” He grabs her hand for a moment as they both say it together.

“FUCK!”

The panic within James lurches into gear, and he snatches his hands away and pulls away, towards the fireplace. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking, he’s just going.

“You could’ve wrote and told me.”

She jumps off the bench and holds her tummy cautiously, eyes hardening.

“How would I find you? You wouldn’t have read it.”

“I would so,” He doesn’t know why he’s lying, he knows she’s right, but he needs to be angry.

“No.” The singular word and the blunt cut off hurts more than reasoning.

“Do you even want me anymore?” He asks as the words strangle him from the inside. He can’t be a father. He can’t be with Lily because she deserves someone who is enough for her and this kid.

“What?” Her eyebrows lurch up her forehead and into her hair.

“Of course! Do you even want this child with me, James, because it’s not going to be easy!”

“Is war time, right now, the best time, Lily? Why now?!”

“I wouldn’t be pregnant if you hadn’t have left when you did, so this isn’t my fault! And no time is ever the right time, James, ever. You know this.”

He nods in agreement, he knows she’s right. He doesn’t know why his blood is boiling beneath his skin, is it anger or panic? He’ll never know.

“So do you want this or not, James?” She asks, softer, a little more hurt. He wasn’t aware there was even a choice to be made.

“I’m not going to make you stick around if you want to do other things, or hold you back. You can go save the world, but I think I want this kid.”

She’s looking at her stomach like she’s holding a precious snowglobe, and maybe she is. That kid won’t just be James, but it will be Lily, and they have to be as well-loved as _she_ deserves to be.

“There was never any other option, Lil. This child is a part of us. Both of us. I love you.”

He falls into her as she falls into him, and she mutters _love you too_ into his chest. _I’m sorry_ echoes through the flat, although no word is spoken.

She looks up at him, sleepy eyes that are still electric.

“I’m not that far along,” She has that look about her that he can’t help but smirk.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna get smashed?”

He laughs, and so does she. She’s made for him, she’s wonderful.

“Will it hurt them?” he glances down.

“No.”

“Well, Yeah lets go. I’m so in love with you.”

She only smiles and takes his hand, a secret smile on her lips as glances at her book.

“Welcome home, babe.”

 

 

* * *

 

Her eyes are alight with happiness and they fall into a bed that they barely know is theirs, drunk off their heads and kissing every inch of skin available to each other. This is what it feels like, all this big, all consuming, quiet, loud, soft rough tumble feeling of love. They’re careful with her stomach, housing a precious heartbeat, but their love is tumbling through their eyes, ribs, fingers, heads, as they kiss and sigh and rake fingers down each other’s backs. This morning is filled with Firewhiskey and happiness and they fall back into the sheets and get lost and found together, falling asleep with Lily’s hair caught in the mouths of both.

_Welcome home. \_

 

* * *

 

Morning light filters into the room and pale eyelashes flutter open. Her ribs are pressed into his fingers, and he’s fallen asleep protecting them; he’ll be a wonderful father.

She rolls over to face him and props herself up with her elbow, looking at him with a smirk through her hair. He’s snoring as loudly as a bulldozer, and her head won’t stop pounding, her body is rebelling against alcohol, but she’s as content as ever.

He opens his eyes and his glasses are on as soon as he’s awake, he needs to see her, always.

They look at each other for a while, without saying anything, but then she lets out a gentle, exhalating laugh and she rolls over so her heads on his bare chest.

“It’s not going to be easy,” His words are muffled by the sheets, and his hand drifts to her stomach, and she holds her hand over his as he lets its sit there. The family.

“Especially in war time,” Lily adds, blinking at him softly. “We’ll be okay, we’ll figure it out.”

She looks at him for a moment longer before she gazes at the hands on her stomach.

“Just… Promise me he’ll always be loved. No matter what.”

“Until the very end.” He says with a grin. “ _He?_ ”

Lily only smirks. “I have a gut feeling.”

“Well, Lils, I’m sure James II will have great parents.”

Lily props herself up again, looking at him with disdain as she gets out of the bed to make coffee. She removes the traces of last night’s drunken ascent up the stairs with a flick of her wand.

“…We’re _not_ calling him James II.”

James leaps out of the bed in horror and follows her in shock as she walks down the stairs.

“But!! It’s a great name!! _Fleamont,_ and Euphemia agree! C’mon, LILS!” He’s pouting adorable like a child, and Lily chuckles as she flicks the kettle on.

“James is a good middle name though, babe.”

His eyes light up and she knows instantly she’s won the tiff.

“What do we call him then?” He asks as her as he threads his arms around her waist. She smiles and nudges him gently, a gesture to tell him to put the toast on.

“Well,” She says as she reaches for the sugar - she’s not quite tall enough and she flicks it down with a spell - James smirks – “I was reading about your family while you were gone. And I quite like the sound of your grandad.”

James beams. “Henry? What a legend, honestly.”

“I like Harry for a name.”

He just looks at her, and he feels like he’s being punched in the gut in slow motion. This is what love feels like.

“Do you want to get married?”

Her jaw drops, so he shrugs, nonchalant. Their relationship was built for this.

“I love you, and we may as well make Harry… legitimate.”

Lily stirs her coffee and pulls him into her, where he belongs.

“Sure. Thought you’d never ask, James.”

 

 

* * *

 

He’s tiny. The world is too big and dark for him, but he’s a light, a beacon for all things good. A mop of dark hair sprouts from his scalp, like his dad, and Harry is perfect.

“Lily,” James mutters as he holds his child. His. “How did we, the biggest messes, make this little guy? He’s this tiny piece of art, god, Lil.” She smiles at him, tired and content. This is what it feels like. This is love tumbling out of her insides and into the room, for these two boys. _Her boys._

“Okay, MY turn.” Sirius is by the door and looks at Harry like he’s the world. He is.

He’s trying to make his affection for the baby, but it’s not working because James and Lily know him too well. He’s in love with the kid. Like the rest.

“Sure, mate.” James passes Harry to him like he’s made of glass, but Sirius holds him like he’s made of diamonds, like he never wants to let go. He doesn’t.

But he looks at Lily snootily and she prepares herself for snark.

“Why wasn’t he named after me though?”

“Because the world doesn’t need more than one Sirius.”

Remus enters to room and bright smiles and laughs echo through the walls. He looks at Harry over Sirius’s shoulder, because there’s no way Sirius will let him go, and smiles. He wants to burst; Harry is as perfect as his parents.

“If you must know, Padfoot, Harry was named for my grandad Henry who was so much cooler than you but SURE.”

“Impossible to be cooler than me, Potter.”

Pete bounds in a moment after, and his eyes lighten at the sight of the kid. He’s seemed a little darker these days, but it’s all disappearing as he looks at this light in Sirius’s arms.

He pulls a face at the tiny figure and the baby gargles and giggles, and Sirius pouts until it’s him making the kid laugh.

“Wanna be godfather, Pads?” It’s Lily who says it as she chugs down tea, casual. Sirius looks like he might both faint and cry.

“Honoured, other Potter.”

And this is what it feels like. Harry James Potter, born July 31st, has brought light back into a dark world. Sure, they may be in hiding, in a war zone, but they’re all together, and that’s what matters.

At the edge of the world, there’s the three of them, and they know that when they look at each other, that’s what it feels like.

 


End file.
